Awaiting Destiny
by RedStalkingDeath
Summary: fem!Merlin. A young sorceress' life from the moment she leaves her home to go to Camelot until... Well, who knows when it will end? Rated T at the moment, but this just might change later on. Oh, and the pairing will be Merlin/Arthur, of course.
1. The Dragon's Call: Arrival

Chapter One – The Dragon's Call - Arrival

_No young woman, no matter how great, can know her destiny. She cannot glimpse her part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, she must live and learn. And so it will be for the young sorceress arriving at the gates of Camelot. A girl that will in time mother a legend. Her name...  
...Merlin._

* * *

"Merlin?" someone called from outside the door. Her mother, Hunith, walked in with a backpack in one hand, some bread in the other one. "I've packed some more food for you, just to be on the safe side."

"Thank you," Merlin smiled softly at the older woman.

"Let me help you with that," Hunith said, motioning towards the piece of cloth her daughter was holding between her hands. Handing over the cloth, she held up her blue, slightly too big tunic so her mother could more easily get access to bind her breasts tightly.

That particular day had been planned for some time now – ever since Merlin's best friend, Will, had found out about her having magic. She knew her friend would never tell anyone, but how long would it take for someone else to figure it out – someone who might not be that nice about it? Though Ealdor wasn't the most magic-hating place in the lands, such practises were still heavily frowned upon. That was why she was now getting ready to leave.

Being a young girl – barely sixteen years of age – travelling alone so far along practically deserted roads could be dangerous. Because of this she would dress up as a boy, to keep any men she might meet along the way from getting any ideas by the sight of a lone and seemingly helpless young maiden walking along the road.

With the bindings in place, Hunith started to work on her girl's long, somewhat curled dark hair. She brushed it back and made a knot at the back of her neck, revealing her larger than average ears, which she had kept hidden behind her long tresses for years to escape the merciless teasing from the other children in the village.

When her hair was done, Merlin turned around to face her mother, who drew her into a warm and firm embrace. After pulling back, Hunith placed her palms on each of her daughter's cheeks and looked straight into her eyes.

"Now, you take care of yourself. Be careful with your magic, and _try_ to stay out of trouble," she pleaded.

"I'll do my best," the young girl replied, putting on a brave face for her mother's sake and raising her hands to hold the ones on each side of her face.

A few moments later she grabbed her backpack and flung it over one of her shoulders.

"Here, take this as well," Hunith handed her a newly forged dagger. "Just in case."

"Thank you," Merlin said gratefully and placed the dagger in the belt keeping her almost black, manly breeches in place. "I'll send word as soon as I've reached Camelot and settled in."

* * *

The morning sun had just started rising in the horizon when Merlin made her way along the road over the hilltop, lighting up the castle in the distance in an ethereal glow. It truly was a magnificent sight, especially for a village girl who had never seen any buildings grander than old Bran's stable.

The journey from Ealdor to Camelot had been long and tiresome, but finally seeing her goal brought her new energy and a tired, but genuine smile to her face. In her hurry to finally reach the end of her journey, she managed to stumble over quite a few loose pebbles in the road, but never quite falling down.

When she entered the city walls she almost wished she had a few more heads, or at least eyes in her neck. With a grin so big it almost split her face in half, she whirled around for her blue eyes to be able to take in as much as possible of the sights greeting her. The streets were full of life. There was a markedplace where people – both the young and the old – were rushing in every which direction.

Distracted and in awe by her surroundings, she walked straight into a customer standing in front of one of the stalls, but even that couldn't put a damper on her good mood. Apologizing profusely, she helped the old woman pick up the basket she had made her drop by bumping into her.

"Don't worry, my child. I may not look like it these days, but I know how it is to be young and carefree," she said with her creaking old voice, before continuing down the road in the opposite direction.

Merlin was left staring after her, wondering what _that_ was supposed to mean, but after a few moments she just shrugged her shoulders and continued on her own way.

Soon she arrived at a large open place filled with people that were _not_ moving around, but rather seemed to be waiting for something. There was an eerie feeling hanging over the area, making her ever-present smile fade into nothing. Merlin made her way through the throng towards the centre of the square - accompanied by the sound of trumpets and drums - trying to figure out what was going on there to catch the attention of so many.

What she saw filled her entire being with dread. There, in the middle of the main square of the city was a platform where people gathered around, on top of it was something that reminded her strongly of the chopping block behind her mothers house in the village she left only a few days previously. This one, however, clearly wasn't used to something as practical and meaningful as chopping firewood, even though a large, bulky man wielding an axe was standing beside it. A pair of guards was manhandling some poor, scruffy-looking bloke towards it.

Merlin's eyes widened when her brain added up the indications of exactly what was about to happen. She hadn't ever really seen a man die before. Her mother had always made sure to shield her from as much as she could of the cruelties of the world. She certainly hadn't ever witnessed anything like an execution. She wasn't stupid, though, she knew such practices existed. Being the curious person she was infamous for back home, she went to ask the person next to her, but before she could utter a single word a strong, unwavering voice started speaking with twice the amount of authority the village elder of Ealdor could ever hope to muster up.

"Let this serve as a lesson to all." Merlin's gaze was pulled towards the source of the words. Standing tall and proud upon a balcony facing the crowd were an middle-aged man, clad in royal garbs in the red colour distinctive of Camelot, with a golden crown on top of his head, demanding the attention of his people.

"This man, Thomas James Collins, is judged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic."

Merlin bit her lip and swallowed nervously, waiting in suspense to hear what the man had done.

"I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death." The king inhaled deeply. "I pride myself as a fair and just king. But for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass." The king of Camelot nodded to the guards, and they brought forth the prisoner and harshly put his head down on the block. The man with the axe proceeded ro lift it over his head, aiming for the kneeling man's neck.

Her eyes widened even further and her mouth fell open, her jaw going slack in shock. _The man hadn't actually _done_ anything!_ He was to be executed for _planning_ to use magic. He could have been planning to use magic for evil, against the crown, but _still._ Why had her mother sent her _here_? Didn't she know about the law? How could the young sorceress be any safer here than she had been at home? Even back there she'd had trouble keeping her secret - prone to act without thinking as she was – how was she going to survive _here_, where they were actively searching out people like her to execute as examples?

The ominous sounds coming from the drums sent shivers of dread down her back, making her shudder and tighten her arms around her chest, hugging herself in an attempt to find some thread of comfort. There seemed to be a certain chill in the air as well, in the breeze that ruffled the leaves on the ground. King Uther raised his arm, signalling for the executioner to get ready to strike. The drums picked up their rythm, the silence spread over the crowd, the people holding their breath for a fellow citizen.

The mighty king's arm cut through the air, just like the arm that followed, ending with the horrible sound of metal forcing its way through flesh and bone, before meeting wood, marking the end of a man's life. There was a collective gasp from the audience as they turned their heads away, a few of them whispering a quiet prayer for the unfortunate man's soul, or perhaps the soul of the hateful king.

The head had barely stopped rolling when Uther continued his speech, like there had been no interruptions. "When I came to this land, this kingdom wa mired in chaos, but with the people's help magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot freed form the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin," he stated and looked down upon his people with a tight-lipped expression that was probably trying to pass as a smile, yet somehow failing to do so.

People scattered about to leave the main square, when an awfully long and sorrowful wail pierced through the air. Everyone drew to the sides to reveal an old and wrinkled woman, crying out her heartache.

"There is only ine evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance! You killed my son!" The desperation was prominent in her voice, bringing forth Merlin's sympathetic side. When the old mother continued, her voice had hardened, letting everyone felt her anger and hatred towards the king. "But I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son," her voice broke at the end of the sentence.

"Seize her!" the king roared at the threat towards his only son and heir.

Before the guards had any time to react, the woman gripped her necklace in one hand and a whirlwind started whipping up dust around her, seeming to be controlled by her chanting. Soon she couldn't be seen behind all of it, and when the whirl of dust and smoke disappeared, so had the old witch.

The crowd was left with their jaws all the way down to their chests, fearful of the magic-hating king's reaction. Not wanting to stay behind and watch the king ordering a search for the witch, in addition to the way the body of the executed was surely to be treated, Merlin left to continue her search for the man her mother had told her to find. Apparently this man, Gaius, was her mother's uncle, but she could vaguely recall meeting him once a long time ago, and having him tell her he could be her uncle too. Not really knowing where to find the man, she gathered all the courage she could muster and strode up to a couple of red-clad, armour-wearing guards keeping watch at one of the doors into the great castle.

"Excuse me, where would I find Gaius, the-the court physician?" she stuttered to the one standing closest to her, not managing to appear as confident and nonchalant as she would have liked. The guard just grunted something unintelligible and waved his hand at the door behind him.

"Thank you," Merlin said and sent the man a grateful smile. Walking through the door she found herself at the bottom of a staircase spiraling up through the tower, and a sign on the wall told her she was on the right path for finding Gaius' residence. _Of course i wouldn't find the sign until _after_ I've asked for the way._ She ascended the stairs at a slow pace, anticipating meeting the physician again after so many years. When she reached the top she found the door wide open, but knocked carefully anyway.

"Hello?" she called softly, peeking her head around the door, but not seeing anyone. Having a look around the quarters - taking in all the smells and the sight of various herbs and different coloured liquids, and walls covered with shelfs containing books as well as bottles of potions - she called out out again. "Gaius?"

Still she did not get any reply, but the young girl spotted an old white-haired man rummaging through books on the bookshelf on a balcony further up the wall. Trying to attract the attention of the court physician, Merlin cleared her throat loudly. Finally the older man noticed he had company, but at the same time he tripped and fell at the creaky old railing, which couldn't take the pressure and allowed him to fall backwards straight through, headed for the floor more than a man's height further down.

Automaticly Merlin slowed down time and quickly sent her eyes on a search through the room for something soft for the man to land on. Fixing her eyes upon a bed at the other end of the room, she mentally moved it into position beneath the physician frozen mid-fall, all the while her normally sky-blue eyes were glinting a deep amber. Then she started time again and let him fall and land safely on the cot, but the impact still left him winded. When he got his bearings back, he shot up to his feet and started shouting at her.

"What did you just do?" he exclaimed in equal parts anger and shock. There was also an underlying hint of confusion.

Merlin stammered and spluttered, trying to make up a quick – and hopefully believable – excuse, not wanting to end up beheaded on her first day in Camelot.  
"Tell me!" Gaius demanded urgently.  
Merlin hesitantly went with the first explanation that popped into her head. "I - I - I have no idea what happened."

But Gaius wasn't listening to her, being busy talking to himself. "If anyone had seen that..." he shook his head in exasperation.

"Er, no!" the dark-haired girl protested. "That – that was – that was nothing to do with me!" she denied hurriedly. "That – that was..."

She was saved from finishing that sentence – and most certainly making a complete fool of herself with some ridiculous excuse – by Gaius, who cut her off mid-sentence.

"I know what it was," like it was the most obvious thing. "I just want to know where you learned to do it!"

"Nowhere," she answered truthfully, but still a tad too quickly to be believable for someone who was already doubting her.

"So how is it you know magic?" the physician inquired, clearly not believing a word she was saying.

"I don't," she denied again, knowing already when the words left her mouth that this was not so truthful.

"Where did you study?" He took a step towards her, eyeing her suspiciously. "Answer me!" he barked.

Quite intimidated by the little old man, the sorceress didn't manage to keep her voice firm. "I – I've never studied magic or – or been taught."

"Are you lying to me?" There was a hint of threat in his tone of voice now.

"What do you want me to say?" she sighed in defeat.

"The truth," he said in a way that demanded a straight answer.

"I was born like this!" she shouted in frustation.

"That's impossible!" the man yelled at her, getting angry. "Now, boy, tell me the truth!"

She exhaled loudly to calm herself, before she realized exactly what he had just called her. "I'm not a boy, I'm a girl!" she exclaimed, feeling gravely insulted.

The aging physicians expression morphed into one of confusion. "Who are you?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh... I have this letter," she said while pulling her backpack from her shoulder and searching through it for the aforementioned letter. After finding what she was looking for all the way down at the bottom of the bag, she handed it to Gaius.

"I – I don't have my glasses," he said expectantly.

"I'm Merlin," she revealed brightly, giving him her widest smile.

"Hunith's daughter?" he asked with a spark of recognition in his eyes.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly.

Gaius furrowed his brows and acquired an expression of confusion yet again. "But you're not meant to be here 'till wednesday!"

"It is wednesday," she frowned and started to wonder whether it was her or him who hadn't kept track of the days right.

"Ah. Right, then. You better put your bag in there," he pointed towards a door directly opposite the one she arrived through. Merlin made her way across the floor, trying desperately not to stumble in the process. Before she went through the door she suddenly remembered something important, something that could mean life or death for a person like her.

"You – you won't say anyhting about..." she trailed off, leaving the half-finished sentence hanging in the air while gesturing towards the balcony with the broken railing and the bed now covered in pieces of wood.

"No," he replied firmly. "Although, Merlin, I should say thank you," he thanked her gratefully.

She smiled and went back to the task of finding her new room, when Gaius called for her one last time for the day. "Hey, Merlin? You're allowed to call me uncle Gaius, you know."

"Thank you, uncle Gaius," she added cheerfully, her smile stretching so wide it threatened to split her face in two. That smile was dangerously contagious, and her uncle couldn't have kept the grin off of his own face even if he wanted to – which he didn't.

She turned back to the door in front of her, entered, and ran the last few steps up to her own room. Her new bedchamber might not be very luxurious, but it was a lot more than she had ever known. There was a small bed, a bedside table and a cupboard in the corner. She set about unpacking the few items she had brought with her from home. It wasn't much, but it was a simple life living in a small village like Ealdor.

* * *

The dark of night spread like a blanket over the lands, bringing with it a peaceful silence. Merlin opened her window and admired the sight of Camelot, her chin situated on her folded hands on the windowsill. The city was swathed in darkness, a bright full-moon and the sparkling stars the only sources of illumination, the reflections glinting in the girl's eyes.

When her eyelids started to slip shut, she took a deep breath and closed the window. Fully clothed she instantly fell asleep on her bed, not even removing her boots.

* * *

**AN: I'm really excited right now - I have never written anything this long before! *giving myself a pat on the back* I know this kind of story has been done plenty of times already, but I just wanted to give it a try myself. I have read several such stories, but I'll try not to steal anything from any them (if I do, just tell me).**

**Please let me know what you think! Anything - whether it's good or bad, or just telling me that you've read it. Constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms!**


	2. The Dragon's Call: First Day

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Merlin (unfortunately), and a lot of the dialogue and situations in this fic is taken straight out of the TV-series.**

* * *

Chapter Two – The Dragon's Call – First Day

"Merlin."

The young sorceress thought she heard an unfamiliar voice calling for her in her sleep, but her weary body wasn't quite ready to wake up just yet.

"Merlin," the voice called again, gaining both strength and volume with each of its rattling breaths.

Her eyes shot open wide in search for a face to connect with the voice, but there was no one else but her in the room. Just as quickly, she had to close them again, as her sleepy eyes was assaulted by the rays of sun invading her bedroom at such an ungodly hour of the day.

When she finally won the battle against her eyelids, she found herself sitting upright in bed, staring mindlessly out through window, writing off the memory of the voice as some dream made up by a mind hazy with sleep.

When her head had cleared a bit, she became aware of the jangle of bowls and cutlery coming from Gaius' chambers downstairs, and decided to get up and make herself ready to greet the new day. All she needed to do was put up her hair, which had come undone during her restless sleep, having fallen asleep in all of her clothes the day before - after all, she didn't have all that many changes of clothes.

When she entered the physician's quarters, she saw him ladling a generous amount of something atrocious-looking over into a brown bowl.

"I got you water. You didn't wash last night," was her uncle's so very nice greeting for her this morning.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Help yourself to breakfast," Gaius offered, indicating a bowl containing something white and lumpy, drenched in liquid placed in front of a chair on one side of the table. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she passed the man and took her seat on the chair.

Merely picking at the strange food situated in front of her with the spoon she found to the right of it, she tried to conjure the will to actually raise the spoon to her mouth, almost loosing her appetite entirely in the process.

All of a sudden Gaius' hand connected with the bucket of water he earlier had placed upon the tabletop for his niece, sweeping it straight over the edge of the table. Without giving it any thought Merlin leapt to her feet and magically stopped the bucket's fall. Hearing the physician's small gasp of surprise, she realized exactly what she had done and severed the magic's hold on the bucket and water, allowing gravity to inevitably make a mess out of it all.

When the old man had regained his ability to talk, he restarted his interrogation about her magic from the day before. "How did you do that?" he inquired curiously. "Did you incant a spell in your mind?"

"I don't know any spells," she answered firmly but hurriedly.

"So what _did_ you do?" Gaius asked her in resignation. "There must have been something."

"It just happened," Merlin replied with conviction, then left Gaius to his thoughtful silence to go clean up the water now staining the floor.

"Well, we better keep you out of trouble," he stated, giving up on the subject for the time being. "You can help me until I find some paid work for you," he offered while searching through his shelves loaded with medical supplies in all shapes and colours. "Here," he placed several small bottles upon the tabletop. "Hollyhock and Feverfew for Lady Percival, and this is for Sir Olwin. He's as blind as a weevil, so _warn_ him not to take it all at once," he stressed for emphasis.

"Okay," Merlin answered dutifully, moving closer to pick up the medicines, all the while paying close attention to his every word not to miss any of it, not wanting to muck up anything already on her very first day as the assistant of the Court Physician of the kingdom.

"And here," her uncle handed over a plate with some _real_ breakfast for his only niece. A fond and ever so slightly relieved smile made it's appearance on her youthful face at that, and she gratefully accepted the food.

"Off you go," he huffed, trying very hard to sound dismissive.

Taking a bite out of the sandwich and humming in appreciation, she hurried for the door to get started on the work of the day.

"And Merlin!" Gaius hollered after her retreating back. When she spun on her heel to give him her full attention, he gave her some – hopefully not needed, but perhaps vital – advice in a serious kind of voice. "I need hardly tell you that the practice of any form of enchantments will get you killed." He raised an eyebrow with an expectant look, which she answered with a quick nod of the head, before striding out of the door.

Munching on her sandwich she trekked through streets and corridors in her search for one Sir Olwin. Three times she had to admit to be utterly lost, and grudgingly ask for directions. The first time, she approached a large and severe-looking knight marching down an empty alley. Before making her request she hastily swallowed to remove any remnants of her newly-devoured breakfast, but got a tiny breadcrumb stuck in her throat, and ended up with a severe fit of coughing instead.

Blushing a deep crimson in mortification, parts of the directions delievered by the man was lost on her, but she merely said her thanks and left, before she could embarrass herself any further.

Arriving at the right door, at long last, she knocked firmly while searching her pockets for the bottle of potion. The door opened after a moment, presenting an old man who greeted her with silence while squinting at a spot slightly to her left.

"Erm, I brought you your medicine," she told him uncertainly, providing him with the bottle of viscous, yellow fluid. The man reached for his medicine with one of his old, wrinkled hands, missing his intended target by several inches. Unsure how to proceed, she hesitated in bewilderment for a few moments, before simply seizing his hand and leading it to the bottle for him. With shaking hands Sir Olwin unscrewed the cap of the bottle and gulped down the contents at a rate that belied his age.

About to leave the man to his own, she suddenly remembered Gaius' emphasised warning about this particular patient and turned back around to present him with it.

"Oh, and Gaius said don't drink it all at..." she trailed off when realizing he was done already. "I'm sure it's fine," she finished hesitantly, but giving the man a kind smile, all the while contemplating whether or not she should alert the physician. She didn't really fancy being convicted for murder – after all, she _had_ promised her mother to stay out of trouble.

* * *

Wandering down the cobblestone road at a slow pace, she tried to remember whether there was anything more Gaius had told her to do before returning to his quarters. Some commotion further down the road caught her attention as she approached.

"_Where's_ the target?" a fair-haired young man asked almost mockingly.

"There, Sire?" a young, dark-haired servant boy, standing in front of him answered uncertainly, his gaze flickering between the gang of armoured young men laughing in the background and the one in the forefront who seemed to be their leader.

"It's into the sun," the leader statet matter of factly, an arrogantly expectant expression covering his face.

"But, it's not that bright," the servant uttered in confusion, clearly not understanding what he was expected to do.

"A bit like you, then?" the blonde quipped with a complacent smirk, receiving roars of laughter from his gang for his quick wit.

"I'll put the target on the other end, shall I, Sire?" the boy sighed in defeat, getting a look from the young blonde which plainly showed what he thought of the brain capasity of the servant.

Complying to his orders, the dark-haired servant fetched the target to put it against the wall. The gang started talking to the leader in hushed voices – too low for Merlin to hear from where she was standing, but it looked like they were goading him into doing something.

"This'll teach him," he muttered - just loud enough for the young sorceress to catch - sharing a mischievous smirk with the other boys.

Grabbing a decent-sized dagger from his belt, the blonde took a quick look around the area to make sure the crowd were with him – quite a few people had stopped on their way to whereever they were going to watch the scene unfold. Apparently satisfied with the size of his audience, he flung the dagger at the target still in the hands of the retreating servant boy, hitting the target at its very centre.

The boy stopped in confusion, lowering the target to check what hit him.

"Hey! Hang on!" he exclaimed, having caught sight of the dagger.

"Don't stop!" the show-off of a man bellowed, throwing his arms to the sides in irritation.

"Here?" the boy asked after moving a few steps backwards.

"I told you to keep moving!" the blonde demanded, moving his arm into position to throw another dagger.

The servant's eyes widened in fear, and he ducked his head behind the target to avoid taking a hit to his head.

"Come on! Run!" the blonde laughed with malicious glee, continuing to throw daggers at the poor boy running back and forth for their amusement.

"We want some moving target practice!" he continued, egged on by the others' appreciating whistles and encouraging comments.

Merlin surveyed the crowd, searching for someone who would intervene and help the poor guy – instead she saw a flock of girls giggling amongst themselves and checking out the blonde, dagger-throwing bully. Taking another look at the guy, she noticed that he actually _did_ look like the type most girls would swoon just at the sight of.

Merlin had never understood what all the fuzz was about regarding those types – personally she could never admire anyone's appearance at first sight. Though, she had thought the stranger passing through her village on his travels the year before to be cute, but that was only after he so kindly helped her pick up the firewood she had dropped when she ran into him. All the girls her age home in Ealdor always gushed excitedly about how handsome the blacksmith's son was, but she herself could never see it – the guy was extremely rude and a total bully!

Apparently, so was this guy.

After a while the servant boy couldn't take it anymore, and stumbled and fell flat on his face under the weight of the target and the constant fear of being hit by one of the flying daggers. The target rolled away from him, and Merlin stepped forward and put her foot on it, preventing the boy from picking it up again when he scrambled to get up and keep going.

"Hey. Come on, that's enough," she said firmly, a steady gaze directed at the bully.

"_What_?" he exclaimed incredulously, like it was the first time anyone had ever spoken a word against him.

"You've had your fun, my friend," she remarked calmly, trying to stay polite.

"Do I know you?" he inquired haughtily, approaching her with his nose posed at the sky above.

"Er, I'm Merlin," she introduced herself with a tentative smile, holding up her right hand for him to shake.

"So I don't know you," he stated, completely ignoring her offered hand.

"No," she replied, hesitantly lowering her hand to hang limp and useless by her side, surprised at the young man's incredibly rude behaviour.

"Yet you called me 'friend'," he noted, his tone now practically _reeking_ with arrogance.

"That was my mistake," she confessed almost timidly, breaking eye-contact and bowing her head a bit to give the apperance of submission.

"Yes, I think so," he agreed victoriously.

"Yeah," she said with a regretful tone. "I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass," she retorted smugly, before turning to walk away, but the guy just wouldn't let her have the last word.

He scoffed and shook his head in bewilderment at how this _peasant_ dared to speak to him.

"Or I one who could be so stupid," he parried, causing Merlin to stop in her tracks, but remaining with her back to him.

He strolled up behind her, and led their verbal sparring in an entirely different direction. "Tell me, _Merlin_, do you know how to walk on your knees?"

"No," she turned back to find him invading her personal space.

"Would you like me to help you?" he asked in a mockery of what normally would be perceived as a kind and thoughtful offer of a helping hand.

Refusing to be intimidated by some bully, no more than a few inches taller than her, she held her ground steadily.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she warned him, knowing fully well she could easily defeat him if she used her powers.

"Why?" he chuckled in amusement. "What are you going to do to me?" he was outright laughing at her at this point, believing he would be far superior at anything she could throw at him.

"You have no idea," she whinnied darkly, planning out ways to win against the prat.

"Be my guest!" he invited, spreading his arms to emphasise the invitation. "Come on!" he glanced at he surounding people. "Come on! Come _on_!" he continued, making her want to wipe that smug expression clear off of his stupid face.

Merlin was no stranger to fist fighting, what with having grown up amongst a lot of boys with a ridiculous need to prove themselves to be the biggest and baddest 'warrior' of the village. With this in mind she took a swing at the blonde, aiming for the jaw on the left side of his mouth.

Averting her attack with ease, he grasped her arm, spun her around and twisted it behind her back, holding her in a grip of iron.

"I'll have you thrown in jail for that," he announced close to her ear, not even the slightest out of breath.

"What, who do you think you are? The King?" she questioned waspishly, wanting more than ever to jack the bastard down a few notches.

"No," he denied vehemently. "I'm his son, Arthur," he forced out between gritted teeth, and with that he brought her to her knees on the dusty cobblestones with a swift kick to the back of her kneecaps.

When he finally released her he ordered for some knights to '_arrest the peasant'_ and have her thrown in jail.

* * *

The two armoured and heavily armed guards – one of which she recognized from earlier that day – hauled her none too gently down the stairs to the dungeons. At the door to the first cell they threw her inside, making her crumble to the hay-covered floor in a heap, whilst they slammed the cell door shut and locked it securely.

Merlin sat up in the middle of the floor, bringing her knees up to her chin, then allowing her forehead to bump repeatedly at the top of her knees, feeling the cold from the stone floor creep into her. _How did she manage to always land herself in those kinds of situations?_

* * *

**AN: I should really be reading for my exam right now, but I just wanted to get one more chapter finished and out here before putting all my effort into it.**

**To answer the anonymous reviews:**

**Thank you both! I'm glad you liked it :D  
_Solace23:_ You'll just have to wait and see about that, it will be revealed in either the next chapter or the one after that.  
_Smiles:_ Fast enough update for you? ;)  
**

**I hope you'll approve of this chapter. And I'd love to hear any comments!  
**


	3. The Dragon's Call: Second Day

Chapter Three – The Dragon's Call – Second Day

For the second day in a row, Merlin was woken by a deep and rumbling voice repeatedly calling her name.

She had been sleeping quite peacefully, the circumstances taken into consideration; her body curled tightly in on itself with her cheek resting on one of her palms, on the hard and filthy floor covered in old and mouldy hay – even with that stubborn straw which insisted on tickling her nose every few minutes – with her worn brown jacket covering her slender shoulders.

The night before she had fallen asleep cursing her severe and ever-present bad luck and made a promise to herself to make more of an effort to stay out of trouble, and – if she ever saw him again – ignore the arrogant prince.

"Merlin."

She furrowed her brows slightly in her sleep, trying to ignore the insistent voice disturbing her sorely needed rest.

"Merlin," the voice repeated, the volume steadily increasing.

She jumped to her feet, immediately awake and alert. _Am I loosing my mind?_ She thought to herself puzzled.

"Merlin."

The voice seemed to come from the exact spot where she had been lying only moments earlier, but from underneath the ground. She warily backed away, almost in fear, but the fear quickly subsided and she stepped forward to investigate. She put her head down towards the frigid floor, her ear mere inches from touching the ground, listening intently for the voice calling her name.

"Merlin!" she heard moments later, but it wasn't _that_ voice this time, and it certainly didn't come from the ground, but rather from the other side of the cell door.

She turned her face to the door, just as it swung open, revealing the identity of the one calling her name the last time.

"Gaius!" she smiled with joy, all thoughts of the deep, ominous voice instantly forgotten.

Her smile faded a bit faced with her uncle's obvious agitation. He was pacing back and forth in an imitation of a caged tiger, before finally stopping in front of her to give her a piece of his mind.

"You never cease to amaze me!" he exclaimed loudly, letting her know _exatcly_ how agitated he really was. "The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down, and what do you do?" he questioned rhetorically. "You behave like an idiot," he finished firmly.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, feeling properly chastised by her uncle's stern voice and words.

"You're lucky," he continued in a more gentle manner. "I managed to pull a few strings to get you released," he informed her neutraly.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" the young – now formerly – imprisoned sorceress cried excitedly, overjoyed at the prospect of getting out of the cold and dreary prison cell, and only barely managing to refrain from bouncing up and down on the spot.

Gaius raised one of his white, bushy eyebrows, giving her his most unimpressed and disapproving look, which quite effectively subdued her joyousness.

"I won't forget this," she said much more calmly, laying bare her huge amounts of gratitude in both her words, voice and clear, blue eyes.

"Well," he drew out the word, making it sound like a sinister 'but' to her ridiculously easy escape from jail. "There is a small price to pay," he acknowledged hesitantly, making his niece feel ever so slightly unnerved.

* * *

Her walk up and out of the greatly disliked dungeons went by in a blur of foreboding feelings and speculations, and all of a sudden she found herself with her head and wrists stuck in the stocks, being pelted by an assortment of rotten fruit and vegetables, thrown by a vicious gang of little, deceivably innocent-looking children.

"Oh, no," she choked out plaintively when a relatively large piece of fruit came soaring through the air at her face, the normally pale skin on her face and hands already smeared with the different-coloured juices of at least five different kinds of rotten food.

In her peripheral vision she caught sight of Gaius coming over to watch the show, then giving a hearty laugh while walking away again.

"Thanks!" she shouted sarcastically after the retreating back of her only uncle.

The children ran out of ammunition and ran off – very likely to fetch some more. Taking the opportunity while the air was free of flying foor, she spit and furiously tried to get rid of any pieces of a foul-tasting, old tomato which somehow had managed to find its way into her firmly closed mouth.

Tilting her head to the left, she noticed a girl with curly, dark hair approaching her with hesitant steps. Seeing she had gotten Merlin's attention, she uncertainly began introducing herself. "I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen," she provided with a tone of voice that was close to being questioning. "I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

"Right. I'm Merlin," the unfortunate sorceress introduced herself and extended her hand as far as it could reach with the shackles in place. The maid shook the offered hand awkwardly, but with a amused smile at the girl's antics, while the sorceress continued speaking. "Although most people just call me idiot," she admitted lightly.

"No, no, no. I saw what you did. It was so brave," Gwen complemented hurriedly.

"It was stupid," Merlin countered with a humourless laugh, turning her gaze on the ground by her feet.

"Well, I'm glad you walked away. You weren't going to beat him," she said like it was given, while she gave a breathy laugh.

"Oh, I... I could have taken him," the girl currently restricted by shackles in the stocks snorted in her own defence.

"Right," the curly-haired maid said sarcastically, taking her statement as a joke.

"Sure, I could! And one day I'm going to prove it," the girl dressed as a man uttered with determination.

"You think?" Gwen asked her with a disbelieving look. "Because you don't look like one of these big, muscley kind of fellows," the maid stated, looking Merlin up and down to prove her point.

"Thanks," she replied, feeling slightly insulted at Gwen's insinuation of her lack of strength.

"No! No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look," Gwen backtracked almost desperately. "It's just, erm... Arthur's one of these real rough, tough, save the world kind of men, and... well..." she trailed off hesitantly, searching for the most polite way to get her point across.

"What?" Merlin questioned, trying to keep up with the stream of words coming from the other girl.

"You don't look like that," the royal maid finished lamely, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

The dark-haired sorceress decided not to take offence of the other dark-haired girl's words. She seemed nice, even though she had some problems with expressing herself. She motioned for her to move closer, then looked around her to make sure no one was eavesdropping for what she had to say.

"I'm in disguise," she relayed in a mock-whisper, rendering Gwen speechless in her confusion, before they both started to laugh.

"Well, actually, I'm a girl," she admitted sheepishly when the laughter had died down, leaving the other girl stunned for a moment.

"Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry!" she apologized profusely. "I didn't notice, it's just that you're wearing men's clothes, and you were challenging Arthur, and you were so far away earlier, and now you're covered in rotten fruit, and..." her rambling trailed off when her pool of good reasons ran dry.

"It's okay, really," Merlin assured her. "You're not the first one to mistake me for a boy since I arrived here yesterday. And I _am_ dressed like one," she continued.

"Why _are_ you dressed like that anyway?" the maid inquired curiously.

"Oh, I had to travel here alone, so it was for protection against less honourable men I might meet on the journey, and I haven't got any dresses with me," she explained.

"Well, it's great you stood up to him," Gwen commented warmly.

"What? You think so?" the sorceress questioned, having a difficulties believing that statement after all the talk about tough guys.

"Arthur's a bully, and everyone thought you were a real hero," she informed her sincerely.

"Oh, yeah?" a small smile started blossoming on her sticky face.

"Mm-hmm," the maid nodded happily.

Suddenly the shackled girl noticed the vengeful band of children returning, loaded with more ammunition.

"Oh, excuse me, Guinevere. My fans are waiting," the sorceress warned the maid.

Gwen ran past her in a hurry, wanting to avoid being subjected to the same fate as the new girl. Merlin lifted her hand in a wave of goodbye, before ducking her head to keep her eyes, nose and mouth free of the new patch of rotten food now flying again.

* * *

Finally being released from the slightly humiliating and quite disgusting experience of the punishment for acting with disrespect towards a prince, Merlin arrived back in the physician's chambers sticky and practically dripping with the filthy stuff. After washing up and changing out of the dirty clothes, she neither looked or smelled like trash anymore, and sat down for the meal Gaius had made for the two of them.

"Do you want some vegetables with that?" he asked her, infusing the words with a mocking lilt.

"I know you're still angry with me," she conceded with a bright smile.

"Your mother asked me to look after you," her uncle remarked sternly, giving her a look that showed his concern for her, as well as underlining the seriousness of the situation.

"Yes, I know," she agreed quietly in understanding, lowering her gaze to the plate where she was picking at her food.

"What did your mother say to you about your gifts?" he steered the conversation onto the subject of her magic once again.

"That I was special," she told him, smiling ruefully.

"You are special. The likes of which I have never seen before," the old and wise physician confessed gravely.

"What do you mean?" his niece frowned in confusion, totally forgetting the food she was supposed to be eating.

"Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What I saw you do was..." he trailed off in search for the right way to put it. "Elemental, instinctive," he finished his explanation.

"What's the point if it can't be used?" the girl sighed in defeat.

"_That_ I do not know. You are a question that has never been posed before, Merlin" he revealed to the young, untrained sorceress.

"The dark-haired girl resumed picking at her food thoughtfully, until a particular thought suddenly struck her.

"Did you ever study magic?" she asked, lifting her gaze to meet her uncle's again.

"Uther banned all such work twenty years ago," he told her, avoiding to answer the original question.

"Why?" Merlin wondered, seeing no logical reasons for the king's actions towards her kind.

"People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos," he elaborated to the girl born with magic, who was currently listening attentively, hanging onto his every word. "Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons."

"What? All of them?" the sorceress exclaimed, shocked at how barbaric the king ruled against any creatures in possession of the gift og magic.

"There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it," he told her in more detail, before declaring the subject of conversation ended, to bring up something else. "Now, eat up," he commanded, pointing at her hardly touched share of the meal. "When you're finished, I need you to take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice," he concluded, letting the physician in him take over.

And with that they lapsed into a comfortable silence that lasted for the rest of the time it took for them to consume their meal.

* * *

Merlin followed the physician's directions up a spiraling staircase and through a corridor - where one of the walls were gone in favour of a balcony - all the way to the Lady Helen's residence for her stay in town.

Putting the bottle of potion down on top of the vanity table in the room, she let her ever-curious eyes wander around the chambers and over the table's contents. During this activity she noticed a couple of objects that stood out from the rest of the highly lady-like and probably dreadfully expensive items that adorned the Lady's guest chambers. The first object was some kind of doll made entirely out of straw, kept together by strings. Puzzled, the dark-haired girl picked it up to take a closer look, and that was when she noticed the second conspicuous object on the table. Mostly covered by some papers were a quite strange-looking book, filled with poorly-shaped, loose pages, held together only by a short length of moth-eaten, old rope.

Hearing a set of footsteps approaching the entrance to the chambers at a fast pace, the physician's assistant hurriedly put down the book and tried to cover up any evidence of her snooping around in a Lady's belongings – something like that would most likely end with her in the stocks again, unless even stronger punishments were required for such an offense. She turned around just as the Lady Helen herself entered, giving the girl intruding on her quarters a coldly questioning look.

"What are you doing in here?" the Lady asked suspiciously, her beautiful voice like ice, sending chills down the younger girl's back.

"Um... I - I was asked to deliver this," Merlin stuttered hurriedly, reaching for the bottle placed on the table behind her, all the while trying to avoid eye-contact with the older woman's cold and calculating look, at the same time as she handed it over.

With that the youngest female in the room left with haste, but paused further down the corridor, looking back and furrowing her brows in confusion, wondering why something seems off with the well-renowned singer.

* * *

On her way back to Gaius she crossed the crowded main square and went down an even more crowded alley, when she suddenly caught sight of the bully that got her thrown in jail barely a day earlier. Keeping her head down, hoping neither him nor the rest of his gang would spot her, they passed her, the prince himself prancing down the street with his head raised high like he owned the place – which he technically did, but there was no reason to gloat about the fact!

Thinking she had actually managed to escape their attention, the girl let out a sigh of relief.

"How's your knee-walking coming along?" a smug voice called after her, making all feelings of relief instantly vanish, but she kept on walking in the hope that the irritating prince would let her go peacefully. Of course, she didn't have that kind of luck.

"Aw, don't run away!" he persisted, finally making her walking come to an abrupt stop.

"From you?" she asked in irritation, keeping her back to the prince.

"Thank God," he sighed in relief. "I thought you were deaf as well as dumb," he continued.

"Look, I've told you you're an ass," Merlin said, turning around to face him at last. "I just didn't realise you were a royal one," she snarked, taking a look at the blonde prince and the men flanking him. "Oh, what are you going to do? You got your daddy's men to protect you?" she suggested tauntingly.

"I could take you apart with one blow," he gloated with a small, humourless laugh.

"I could take you apart with less than that," the young sorceress assured him confidently, lowering her voice in a warning.

"Are you sure?" he inquired mockingly.

"Fight!" his men yelled in encouragement, they were all eager to witness a proper fight. There seemed to be gathering a rather large crowd as well.

Merlin pushed up the sleeves of her jacket in acceptance of the challenge, making the challenger throw his head back in laughter.

"Here you go," he offered, tossing a mace at the unsuspecting sorceress, causing her to react too late to catch it. She picked it up from the ground as Arthur began to swing the mace with obvious skill that spoke of years of practice.

"Come on, then. I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth," he gloated, still swinging his mace in circles above his head.

"Wow, and how long have you been training to be a prat?" the raven-haired girl quipped with a smirk.

"You can't address me like that," the superior prince snorted, a hint of frustration in his voice now.

"I'm sorry," the girl bowed her head in respect for the royal, pretending to be an obedient servant. "H-How long have you been training to be a prat, _My Lord_?" she corrected herself smugly, giving the befuddled prince a triumphant glance from beneath her eyelashes, while delivering a little bow of mockery.

Arthur once again found himself smiling at this strange boy's impudence. It had been a long time since he had been challenged outside the training grounds, but never had he ever encountered anything quite like this. It truly was amusing, but he couldn't really see why anyone would act like that. Was there something wrong with the boy? Did he wish to die?

Either way he was now going to teach him a lesson, and with that in mind he took his first swing at the peasant-boy – who in all reality was a peasant-_girl_.

"Come on then, Merlin! Come on!" he goaded, eager for at least a _little_ competition, even if the peasant hardly stood any chance against someone like _him._

Merlin got her mace stuck at one point and threw herself over a marked stall the next, never getting any chance to actually fight back, only to jump away and hide behind anything in her reach to avoid being hit. Eventually she ended up with her backside firmly planted on the dusty ground, with the prince right in front of her, making himself ready for the final swing.

"Ha-ha, you're in trouble now," he laughed with glee.

"Oh God," the young sorceress breathed in panic, her gaze frantically sweeping over her surroundings to find something – _anything_ – to help her in the seemingly helpless situation.

A couple of large hooks hanging directly behind the prince's rotating weapon gave her an idea. Using her illegal magic powers, the young sorceress moved the hooks a little, just enough to cause the mace to get entangled in them, which again allowed her to get out of his range.

After untangling the mace, the blonde attempted to attack her again, but managed to put his foot into a box that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, causing it to smack his shin instead.

"Ow! Argh!" the prince cried in pain and anger, coming at her with more fervour than ever.

Magically tightening a rope lying limply on the ground, she tripped the arrogant prince – which made him fall flat on his royal face – giving her enough time to pick up her mace and start swinging right back at her opponent when he had gotten back onto his feet.

"Do you want to give up?" the dark-haired girl offered, having gotten back every bit of her confidence, and some more.

"To you?" he scoffed, already feeling a fair amount of humiliation for his sudden bout of clumsiness.

"Do you? Do you want to give up?" she offered again, just as the great prat stumbled over a bucket and fell on his back on top of a pile of sacks.

Thrilled at her victory, Merlin looked at the crowd triumphantly – until she caught sight of Gaius in the swarm. Her uncle gave her the eyebrow – much like earlier in the day – indicating exactly how much he did _not_ approve of her most recent actions.

Her distraction rendered her defenceless against Arthur's next and crucial attack. This time the weapon was a broom which the prince handled expertly, delivering hits to her back, stomack and head, knocking her to the ground. A pair of guards stepped forward and firmly gripped her arms, hoisting her to her feet – most likely to throw her back in jail.

"Wait. Let him go," the prince commanded quite surprisingly, keeping his eyes locked on the defeated sorceress. "He may be an idiot, but he's a brave on," he explained, managing to both insult and complement her in the same sentence, before he addressed her directly. "There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."

_Perhaps it is that I'm a _girl_?_ the girl thought to herself sarcastically.

Then he left, leaving her at the mercy of one very irate-looking physician.

* * *

The trip back to the physician's chambers was spent in a most uncomfortable silence, but the moment the door to the quarters closed behind them, all hell broke loose.

"How could you be so foolish?" the physician scolded.

"He needed to be taught a lesson," Merlin insisted fervently.

"Magic must be studied, mastered, and used for good! Not for idiotic pranks!" her uncle exclaimed furiously.

"What is there to master? I could move object like that before I could talk!" the young sorceress yelled, tears gathering in her eyes and her voice starting to quiver.

"Then, by now, you should know how to control yourself!" Gaius retorted, turning her argument against her.

"I don't want to!" his niece yelled desperately. "If I can't use magic, what have I got? I'm just a nobody, and always will be. If I can't use magic, I might as well die," she declared, distraught and fighting to keep her tears at bay.

Then she ran for her bed chambers, a few tears slipping unbidden down her pale cheeks – leaving her uncle stunned speechless in her wake.

* * *

When the physician entered Merlin's bed chambers some time later with a basket of various medical supplies, it was to see a still upset girl sitting slumped on her bed, staring at the bare wall.

"Merlin?" he sighed gently, moving to take seat beside her on the bed. "Sit up. Hoist your shirt up so I can examine the wounds on your back," he demanded, but kept the gentle tone of voice.

Hoisting her shirt from her back, but making sure to keep her front covered – even though the binds were still in place – revealed several painful bruises.

"You don't know why I was born like this, do you?" the young girl asked her uncle weakly.

"No," he replied simply while tending to her wounds.

"I'm not a monster, am I?" the sorceress questioned, fearful of what the answer would be.

Halting his movements, Gaius looked his niece straight in the eyes before replying. "Don't ever think that."

"Then why am I like this? Please, I need to know why," she pleaded urgently, grabbing her uncle's hand and clutching it tightly.

"Maybe there's someone with more knowledge that me," he suggested uncomfortably, breaking eye-contact and turning his gaze away.

"If you can't tell me, no one can," she sighed in defeat.

Gaius refrained from answering, switching his attention to his medical potions.

"Take this. It will help with the pain," the physician offered, handing her a tiny cup of medicine.

Merlin obediently drank the potion before settling down to sleep for the night - her head filled with unanswered questions and distressing thoughts.

* * *

**AN: Now I am _finally_ done with school (for at least a year or so). I started my first year at this school by stumbling over a wire and fracturing my elbow - I ended my third and last year by stumbling in some stairs and spraining my ancle... Seriously, I'm normally not a clumsy person, but when I _do_ fall - I do it properly.**

**Thanks _Smiles_ again for the review! :) Stories with such 'instant swooning' always bothers me, so I wrote in my personal opinion on the matter (no one I know seem to get or agree with my point, though). The update was not as fast this time, but for good reasons.  
**

**Please, _please_ review, good people of fanfiction! You don't have to write anything long (unless you feel like it), please just give me _something_. I really need it for my motivation, or else I fear I won't get very far with this.  
**


	4. The Dragon's Call The Feast

Chapter Four – The Dragon's Call – The Feast

The night really wasn't good to Merlin this time. Her dreams was dominated by vivid recreations of the execution – alternately starring that poor man or herself. When she had finally gotten some real rest, it was already in the early hours of morning. _Of course _it wasn't long after that _the _voice started plaguing her again.

"Merlin. Merlin."

Resigned she lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing in search of a solution to her sleeping problems – at least the part caused by the voice – once and for all.

Finally concluding that the best choice of action would be to simply go and _find _the source to her problem, she got up, slipped on her boots, fetched her only jacket and exited the room. Passing through the physician's chambers, she spotted her uncle sleeping soundly, snoring away louder than anyone his niece had ever witnessed in her entire life.

Tiptoeing across the floor of the quarters which was shrouded in darkness – except the small, flickering flame of a candle on Gaius' bedside table – the clumsy girl stretched her arm to get it through one of the sleeves of her brown jacket and managed to shove something straight off of a table and onto the floor. What this 'something' was, she couldn't see in the dark, but it certainly made a lot of noice when it hit the stone floor.

All the commotion made the sleeping, old man's snores halt in their pattern – making Merlin freeze on the spot – but he just turned from his back onto his right side, resuming his snoring. She sighed in relief and made sure not to knock over anything more when she put her jacket the rest of the way on.

Seeing her uncle sleeping so peacefully brought a fond smile onto her lips and made her magically tuck the quilt more securely over him, to make sure he wouldn't get cold before he woke up. Smiling contently of her work, she left the chambers without making any more racket.

She snuck out of the tower and across the empty square in a hurry, following the mysterious and ominous voice.

"Merlin."

It led her through another door and to the top of a wrought iron staricase that curved slightly so the bottom of the stairs couldn't be seen from the top, even with al the torches lighting it up. Walking down a few steps the curious young girl took a peek over the banister to assess the situation at hand. The room downstairs were empty except a few torches along the walls and two guards sitting at a table playing some kind of game that involved throwing a couple of dices.

Taking all of this in, the young sorceress tried to figure out the most effective way to get past the guards. After a few moments of careful thinking in her part, she decided a distraction would be her best choice of action. And with that she proceeded to magically send the dices to the floor and make them slide further away each time one of the guards bent down to pick them back up to continue their game. She released a soft sigh of relief when the second guard followed the first with a confused look upon his face.

When they disappeared out of sight she rolled her eyes at their stupidity and hurriedly – but silently – ran down the rest of the steps. Grabbing a torch, she held it to one of the ones hanging on the wall – then she took a brief break to breathe deeply a couple of times, gathering all of her courage – before embarking on another set of stairs, that descended into total darkness. Even with the light she brought with her she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her – the light form the torch could only reach so far.

"Merlin."

The voice sounded much closer than before, bringing forth a strong sensation of anticipation to finally figure out who exactly was calling for her, why and how he knew her name in the first place.

"Merlin."

Trying to keep an eye on both what may lay at the end of the tunnel stairway and her feet – to remain upright by avoiding to stumble over anything – she carefully kept going forward at a steady pace until finally the tunnel culminated in a gigantic cave.

"Merlin."

The voice sounded so near then that the sorceress was sure the one speaking had to be inside that very cave. Looking around curiously, she took a few steps closer to the edge of the stone shelf, raising the torch over her head so that the flickering light from the torch could stretch it's light further away from her – still she could not see anyone.

A deep, rumbling laugh – definitly the same voice that had been calling to her for days – filled the entirety of the cave, being thrown back from the walls to create a cascade of sound.

"Where are you?» Merlin shouted out the question, straining to catch sight of the one now laughing at her.

Suddenly the laughing stopped and the sound of flapping wings – magnified hundreds of times – took its place and an enormous dragon came flying from above to land on a pile of stones in front of the shocked human.

"I'm here," the Great Dragon declared, leaving the girl speechless with both awe and fear at being so close to such an old and unique individual. "How small you are for such a great destiny," he remarked, almost offhandedly, bringing the dark-haired girl out of her daze.

"Why? What do you mean?" she inquired, curiousity taking over any part of her that had only seconds earlier been filled with fear. "What destiny?"

"Your gift, Merlin,, was given to you for a reason," the magical creature told her gravely.

"So there is a reason," the sorceress stated, brightening up notably.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion," he declared as if that explained anything.

"Right," the girl remarked sceptically, seriously doubting the possibility of such a future when thinking back on her two encounters with the arrogant prat.

"But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike," he continued, like it would be of any interest to the young sorceress.

"I don't see what this has to do with me," she stated in utter confusion.

"Everything," the dragon exclaimed, raising his voice to echo through the cave. "Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion," he carried on, seeming to Merlin to be overly dramatic about her own role in what sounded like an impressive future.

"No. No, you've got this wrong," she protested fervently.

"There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't," the dragon said firmly, demanding belief in his words.

"But I'm serious! If anyone wants to go and kill him, they can go ahead. In fact, I'll give them a hand," the girl exclaimed incredulously, gesturing wildly with her free hand, making the Great Dragon laugh in amusement at the little human's antics.

"None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it," he informed her gravely, willing her to understand the seriousness of the situation.

"No. No way. No. No. There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot," she denied with fierily.

"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," he concluded, then spread his mighty wings and flew away, up so far above Merlin's head that she could no longer see him in the darkness.

"Wait! Wait! Wait, stop! No, I, I need to know more!" she yelled after him, but her small voice only bounced back from the walls of the huge cave without bringing her any kind of answer.

* * *

"Hoy!"

Merlin woke abruptly by the physician's voice and his shuffling about the room, picking up some of the clothes strewn all across the floor of the girl's messy bedchambers.

How she had managed to get back to bed from the cave without getting caught by either guards on duty or her uncle sleeping downstairs, she would never know, but – as miraculously as it was – she had.

"Have you seen the state of this room?" Gaius exclaimed disbelievingly, holding up the clothes he had gathered off of the floor.

"It just happens," she shrugged helplessly, bringing up her hands for emphasis, but not bothering to get up from under the sheets and actually do anything about the problem – she was far too content with staying exactly where she was for the time being, with her clothes ruffled from sleep and her hair standing up every which way.

"By magic?" he asked, his words laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah," she agreed innocently, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

"Yes. Well, you can clear it up without magic," he decided, putting down the pile of clothes in his arms. "And then I want you to get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana," he continued, handing over a bottle of potion to Merlin, then bent over to grab another piece of clothing from the still messy floor. "Poor girl's suffering from nightmares," the man added, almost as an afterthought, tossing a dirty shirt at the sleepy girl before leaving the room.

"Mmm, I know the feeling," she mumbled, letting her dark-haired head fall back on the lumpy, old pillow.

* * *

Merlin jogged lightly up some stairs and along a corridor well lit by the sunlight streaming through all the windows of the grand castle. Having stayed in Camelot a few days by then, she didn't get lost _quite_ as much as on the first day, and arrived in the chambers of the King's ward in good time.

The door was open and she could see the Lady, so she just entered the room without knocking, but the King's ward only walked behind her changing screen without sparing the physician's assistant a glance.

"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole," the Lady Morgana informed, leaving her confused as to why _she_ was being told this, but agreeing wholeheartedly. "Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?" _Oh, well, that explains it_, the young sorceress thought to herself while fetching the dress in question.

"Pardon me, My Lady, but I think you're confusing me with someone else," the dark-haired girl in men's clothes told Morgana while handing the dark purple gown over the changing screen.

"Oh, excuse me, but who are you then?" the Lady asked, taking a look at Merlin from over the screen.

"I'm Merlin, Gaius' niece," she said, giving her brightest smile. "Oh, he asked me to deliver this to you, for your nightmares," she explained, holding up the potion bottle.

"Thank you. Could you just put it on that table over ther?" the Lady requested, and Merlin stepped back to do just that. "I have to apologize for badmouthing the prince, I'm sure you wouldn't like to hear that."

"No, no! I think I might like him even less than you seem to do," the young sorceress exclaimed hurriedly, receiving a questioning raised eyebrow. "I've met him twice now, and he was a total prat. The first time I ended up in jail for the night and then in the stocks, and the second time he fought me with a mace and beat me up with a broom," the girl elaborated.

"Oh, I saw that!" Morgana exclaimed, then paused. "He doesn't know you're a girl, does he?" she inquired knowingly.

"I don't think so. Well, so any badmouthing you feel like doing, I'd love to hear it," Merlin grinned widely.

"Since my maid's not her at the moment, could you perhaps assist me in dressing?" the dark-haired Lady asked kindly, a bright smile playing on her lips.

"Of course, My Lady," the other dark-haired person in the room replied hurriedly, straightening up her stance, ready to help.

"None of that – you can call me Morgana," the older female insisted with a casual wave of her hand. "Now, could you help me with this fastening?"

"Yes... Morgana," the younger one agreed hesitantly, unsure whether it really would be acceptable to address the King's ward by her first name – the only other royal she'd ever had the (mis)fortune to speak to had been very adamant about how he should be addressed.

"Arthur's a total jouster," the King's ward stated to the girl currently tying the back of her dress, as if she had been reading her thoughts. "And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?" she asked pleadingly, sounding almost distressed at the mere thought.

"I wouldn't say so," the physician's assistant said, giving the strings a stronger tug to tighten it properly. "Though, I'm not well-versed in the ways of royals," she added thoughtfully.

"If he wants me to go, then he should invite me, and he hasn't, " Morgana bemoaned.

"He does seem like the kind of guy who would take something like that for granted, if I may say so," the other girl remarked with a very unladylike snort.

"Yeah... So do you know what that means?" the Lady questioned with a smug grin.

"Mm-Mmm," she answered with a shake of her head, trying to follow the words as well as struggling with the last bow on the fastenings of the dress at the same time.

"It means I'm going be myself," the Lady declared triumphantly, her face practically glowing with satisfaction at the perfect solution she had come to.

Merlin's own face held a sense of victory too when she finally had gotten all of the strings right and straightened the shoulders of the glorious garment to make sure it flowed the way it should. Morgana grabbed another gown and left the changing screen to stand in front of the mirror, spinning around to see the dark purple skirt swirl around her.

"So, it's whether I wear this little tease..." she trailed off, studying her reflection intently before holding the other dress – this one a deep maroon clour – in front of her. "...or give them a night they'll really remember," she turned her head to look at her helper with a smirk that bordered on dangerous.

Merlin truly wouldn't envy those stupid enough to make an enemy out of the Lady Morgana of Camelot.

* * *

Merlin entered the great feast in the banquet hall at the heels of her uncle to the sound of trumpets, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the appreciating look one of the knights was giving her. When she had come back from Lady Morgana's chambers, Gaius had stood there waiting with a dress for his niece to wear to the feast that night. It was just a simple, light green dress, but is was quite pretty anyway, and at least no one could mistake her for a boy anymore.

Turning her gaze away to ignore the staring knight, she thought she heard someone say her name somewhere at the other end of the room. Directing her searching gaze that way, she suddenly caught sight of Arthur – the royal prat – just as he was feinting a punch to the stomack of one of his mates to laughter of the rest of them.

* * *

The prince took a look at the Lady Morgana at the entrance of the hall and did a double take at her choice of dress for the evening. The King's ward was striding forward in a dress made of cloth of a deep maroon colour, and added to the fact that her hair was tied up, she was proudly showing off both her well-shaped neck and shoulders. A self-satisfied smirk plastered itself across her face at all the attention she received for her bold outfit, as the eyes of every warm-blooded man in the hall was glued to her regal shape on her walk through the crowd that parted for her.

"God have mercy," Arthur whispered to himself. _What is she _wearing_?_

Excusing himself from his friends, he made his way through the crowd to talk to her.

"I didn't know you were _this_ desperate," he stated offhandedly with his hands behind his back and a fake smile stretching his lips in a gesture that definitely _felt_ forced to him, while appearing to anyone else to be making plesant conversation withe the Lady. "I'd have thought you'd at least be a little more discreet about it."

"At least _I _look like I've made an effort, unlike someone I am unfortunate to say I know," she shot back at him venomously.

Throwing a look about the hall while thinking of a witty retort, he got distracted by a dark-haired girl talking to Morgana's maid. There was something slightly familiar about the girl in the green dress, he just couldn't place it, but he didn't think he'd ever seen a girl looking like that in the castle at any point.

"Who's that?" he asked the Lady in front og him, still looking at the new girl with a frown of consentration.

"That? Oh, that's Merlin," she said after following his line of sight. "Gaius' new assistant."

"Merlin?" the prince repeated in confusion.

"Yeah, you know, the young girl you beat up the other day," she replied, looking very smug at the flabbergasted look on the face of the blonde prince – he was gaping in absolute shock. "A most honourable move on your part, I must say," she commented sarcastically, thrilled at the chance to peg the arrogant prince down a few notches.

"I just- I thought it was just a very feminine servant boy," he stammered quietly, still struggling with the shock of the unexpected revelation.

"Well, you never were a good judge of character, but I think this is an all time low – even for you," she told him, enjoying his predicament perhaps a bit too much.

"But- She doesn't even _speak_ like a girl!" he exclaimed, grasping for anything to make his actions acceptable. "You know, that annoying, giggly and girly voice all normal girls have," he elaborated, gesturing wildly with both hands, as if it would actually help him in his current situation.

"Finally we've found a girl who doesn't fall at the Great Prince Arthur's feet. It's refreshing, don't you think?" she inquired pleasantly, but the words very underlined with both triumph and a great deal of smugness.

"She was wearing men's clothes! And she wasn't acting like a girl! She's too tall to be a female!" he continued desperately, knowing he was loosing, but not quite willing to admit he had made a mistake yet.

"That's all just excuses," Morgana said with finality, leaving to find a new and better conversation to partake in.

The blonde and stunned prince was left to his own thoughts, trying not to stare at the boy who wasn't a boy after all – he just couldn't wrap his head around it.

* * *

When Morgana had made her spectacular entrance Merlin couldn't do anything but stare and admire the Lady for her confidence, even when her uncle tried to remind her that she was supposed to be working.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Gwen had asked as she sidled up next to the young sorceress, at the same time as Morgana had been approached by Arthur.

"Yeah," she had agreed whole-heartedly.

"Some people are just born to be queen," the maid had said almost wistfully, which somehow had ended in a weird discussion about what the definition of an 'ordinary man' was in reality.

Now there were celebratory horns signaling the entrance of the King, which caused everyone to find their place at the tables and quiet down. The King strode proudly across the open floor in the middle of the room until he reached the front where he turned to face the people and give his speech.

"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdon and myself many pleasures, but few of them can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora," King Uther presented grandiosely and everyone's attention switched to the singer standing on a stage facing the table where the King, his son and his ward were sitting, partaking in the applause.

The Lady Helen started singing a haunting melody in a foreign language – her voice exquisite. Soon the members of the court began to nod off in their seats, leaving Merlin bewildered for a few second before she caught on to what was happening and pressed her hands over her ears to shut out the song.

Not long after, every sleeping person was covered in a thick layer of cobwebs as the singer herself walked forward between the tables on the sides in the direction of the sleeping royals. Merlin noticed the Lady's gaze being trained on the prince as she approached them – still singing - and pulled out a knife from her sleeve with nothing but murder in her eyes.

The young sorceress wildly scanned the hall with her eyes in search for help, but found none. Taking on the problem herself, she magically made the large chandelier fall on the mad singer, ending the song, and thus the enchanted sleep.

As people began to wake up and remove the cobwebs, all with puzzled expressions upon their faces, they noticed the woman who now had changed to look like the witch who had sworn revenge upon the King at the execution only days previously, laying motionlessly on the floor beneath the falled chandelier.

Suddenly the witch raised her upper body from the floor – looking furious and murderous – then lifted her hand and threw the dagger with all her might at prince Arthur's heart.

For the second time since arriving in Camelot, Merlin used her magical abilities to slow time to prevent someone's death. She raced to the paralyzed prince, grabbed his arm and pulled him with her to the ground as the blade of the dagger sank deep into the back of his chair.

When the dark-haired sorceress lifted her head after standing back up and brushing any dust from the floor off of her new dress, her gaze was met with the stares of both the King and the prince, making her self-conciously bring a hand up to rub at her neck in nervousness.

"You saved my boy's life," the King exclaimed with stunned awe and gratefulness. "A debt must be repaid," he declared.

"Oh, well..." the girl stuttered reluctantly.

"Don't be modest. You shall be rewarded," Uther insisted.

"No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Highness," she tried to deny politely.

"No, absolutely. This merits something quite special," the King explained, while his son continued to stare in disbelief at the girl he had beaten only a day previously, but despite that now had just saved his life.

"Well..." Merlin uttered, on the verge of accepting the reward.

"You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be prince Arthur's personal servant," the King announced merrily, to the applause of the people.

"Father!" prince Arthur cried indignantly.

Trying to stifle a groan in case one of the royals would hear it, feel insulted and decide another round of punishment would be in order – she might have gotten away lightly with insulting the prince, with the help of Gaius, but doing the same to the King himself would probably not end well.

Her eyes met Gwen's from across the room, and the maid shrugged with an apologetic smile at her.

The girl and the prince shared a look before turning in opposite directions, feeling none too happy with the results of the evening.

* * *

Later that night Merlin sat in her chambers in deep thought, as the old physician knocked on her door and entered without waiting for an answer.

"Seems you're a hero," her uncle remarked with a small, but proud smile.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" she chuckled darkly, but with a smile of her own back in place.

"No. I knew it from the moment I met you," Gaius insisted. "When you saved my life, remember?"

"But... that was magic," the sorceress stated in confusion, leaning forward curiously.

"And now, it seems, we finally found a use for it," he nodded.

"What do you mean?" the girl inquired, furrowing her brows.

"I saw how you saved Arthur's life," he revealed gravely, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, no," she denied, trying to think of a good excuse.

"Perhaps that's its purpose," he cut her off insistently.

"My destiny," Merlin sighed with a wry smile.

"Indeed," the old man agreed, then held up the thing covered in a piece of red cloth he had been carrying with him since entering her bedchambers. "This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me," her uncle told her, handing it over to his only niece.

Unwrapping the cloth hiding the book from view, she paused to admire the beauty of the old thing, then unlatched it and started leafing through the pages.

"But this is a book of magic," she remarked in wonder, a look of complete awe in her eyes.

"Which is why you must keep it hidden," he commented smartly.

"I will study every word," the dark-haired, young sorceress swore, throwing herself at her old uncle to give him a bone crushing hug in her delight, until they were interupted by a knock on the door and someone calling.

"Merlin, prince Arthur wants you right away," a guard informed them before departing again.

"Your destiny is calling. You'd better find out what he wants," the physician stated and gave her a light shove towards the door.

With a bright and beaming smile on her face, Merlin left to do just that.

* * *

_Dear Mum_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I arrived here in Camelot a few days earlier and have now settled in quite well. I won't lie to you: I did manage to get myself in trouble pretty fast – the first day actually. I kind of insulted this bully who turned out to be the prince himself, so I ended up in jail – but don't worry! Gaius helped me out. Even though I had to stand in the stocks a few hours for it anyway... The next day I got into a fight with him, and to my embarrassment I got thoroughly beaten, but I did not get any sort of punishment._

_I won't go much into details, but there was this witch who tried to kill prince Arthur (in revenge for her own son who the King had executed), and guess what? I used my gifts to save him! Something is truly wrong here, though: my reward was to become a personal servant to the prince... Gaius thinks it's good that I got the job, but I can't picture it as anything but utterly dreadful. He did apologize for how he treated me though, in his own way: "I would never have fought you if I knew you were a girl. But it's your own fault, you know, disguising yourself as a boy". Prat..._

_It's not all bad here, though, I have got a new friend! Her name is Guinevere (but everyone calls her Gwen), and she is really, really nice._

_I miss you very much._

_Your daughter_

_Merlin_

_PS: Gaius wanted to say 'hi'._

* * *

**AN: So, there, now I'm done with the first episode! :D**_  
_

**What did you think about my idea of putting a 'letter home' at the end of the episode? Is it something I should continue to do?  
**

**I just realised that I've been starting the words 'king' and 'lady' with capital letters, but not the word 'prince'. Should there be capital letters at the beginning of all such titles? Only on 'king'? Or perhaps not at all? Or...?  
**

**I want to thank everyone who has taken their time to leave me reviews - it really is encouraging :) So please keep telling me what you think - both the good and the bad!  
**


	5. Valiant: The Tournament Begins

Chapter Five – Valiant – The Tournament Begins

_In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young girl. Her name: Merlin._

* * *

It was a fairly nice day in the kingdom of Camelot; the sun was just peeking over the horizon and the sky was clear, but Merlin was in no position to enjoy it properly. She had been rudely awoken from her peaceful sleep by her usually quite kind uncle's incessant nagging about getting up already to avoid being late for work on her very first day as the Prince's personal servant – a job she wasn't particularly thrilled about in the first place.

She was back in her normal, male clothing, her dress had been carefully folded together and placed on one of the shelves in the closet in her room – as opposed to her other clothes that were still strewn all over the floor – and was to be saved for special occations.

As it turned out, the Prince needed her to help him train for some kind of tournament being held in the kingdom over the next few days. She had thought she would only be required to fetch his armour and what else he would need, and perhaps help him put it all on – she had _not_ expected to be ordered to act as his practice dummy. That was how she now found herself outside dressed up as a knight and feeling severely out of place.

The armour-clad Prince himself had left his helmet behind on purpose, deeming a fight with his new _female_ servant to be far from any danger to his health – a conviction that was only further strenghtened by his first glimpse of the terribly clumsy girl stumbling around the field in full armour – shield and helmet and all – that she had borrowed somewhere for the day's training.

"Ready?" he asked her impatiently, starting to swing his sword around restlessly while waiting for his servant to stop fumbling with her sword so they could begin.

"Would it make any difference if I said no?" she questioned, barely refraining from rolling her eyes at the agitated Prince, all the while struggling to put on her helmet with her untrained hands.

"Not really," he admitted as Merlin uncertainly drew her too big sword from its sheath, and he attacked without a moments notice.

"Body. Shield. Body. Shield," he called out as he aimed for the aforementioned parts in a rapid sequence, leaving the poor girl with hardly any time to react. "Head."

"Head?" she inquired in confusion half a second before her opponent brought his sword down upon her helmet. "Ow!"

"Come on, Merlin. You're not even trying," the blonde Prince complained to his now dizzy servant, tagging her in the back with his weapon when her back was turned on him.

"I am!" she insisted stubbornly while staggering around on her unsteady feet, trying to at least get some semblance of stability back.

"Once more," the war-ready Prince demanded, swinging his sword for good measure.

"Oh, no," the servant uttered with slight trepidation, holding her shield up in a practically useless defence, steeling herself for his next vicious attack.

"To the left. To the right. And left," he continued, the speed of his hits increasing with each one reaching its intended target. "Head," he finished again with a swift hit to the girl's iron-clad head.

"Ow!" she cried again, grasping her head between her hands.

"Come on, Merlin! I've got a tournament to win," the arrogant Prince complained, getting more and more agitated by the second.

"Can we stop now, please?" the girl virtually pleaded, struggling to actually _see_ her opponent through the restricting and overly large helmet that continuously slid too far down over her face, inhibiting her sight to such a degree that all she could see of the Prince was his shiny boots – which she herself had polished just the night before – covered in mud.

Ignoring her pleas he attacked again, with as much fervour as ever, not stopping until he had successfully struck another blow to the young servant's head.

"Ow," she groaned brokenly, before toppling backwards to end up sprawled on her back in the gras, causing her irritating helmet to roll off.

"You're braver than you look. Most servants collapse after the first blow," he almost complimented her, something that was lost on the girl as she tried to figure out which way was up at the same time as desperately fighting to get rid of the terrible ringing constantly in her head.

"Is it over?" the thoroughly defeated girl asked almost hopefully, not bothering to stand up from the ground, prefering to just lie there for the rest of the sunny day.

"That was just the warm up. How's your mace work coming along?" the insufferable prat inquired, swinging his own mace experimentally, with a wry smirk showing his amusement as the girl sighed in defeat and let her head fall back to thump against the ground.

"Why don't you just practice with one of your knights? I'm just a servant girl, I've hardly even touched a sword in my entire life!" she whined, showing no signs indicating she intended to get up again anytime in the nearest future.

"You were eager enough to fight me like a man the other day," he reminded her pointedly, arching his eyebrow as if to ask what she thought she was doing down there when he had given her specific orders that did not involve resting. "Now, come on."

* * *

Hours later Prince Arthur finally took pity on his exhausted servant and let her retreat to the physician's chambers - though, he would never admit to doing such a thing, rather excusing it with adding a few more chores to the girl's already endless list.

After a bit og trouble with the annoying doorhandle, she made her long-awaited return to Gaius' quarters, holding onto the doorframe to keep her weary body from falling into the room. Her arms were sore, her knees were wobbly and her head felt like it was ready to leave her aching shoulders behind; basically her every limb felt like someone had attacked her with a sledgehammer in a frenzy – which really wasn't that far from what had actually happened.

Pieces of armour hitting the floor alerted her uncle of her ungraceful entrance. "So, how was your first day as Arthur's servant?" he asked with a chuckle, observing as the girl's vambrace loosened and plummeted to the floor, giving off a dull thump upon impact with the wooden floorboards.

"Do you hear clanging?" she questioned in light confusion, tapping her helmetless head experimentally with one of her hands.

While removing the rest of her armour, she forced her complaining feet to lead her over the floor to slump in a chair at the table.

"It was horrible," the hardworking, young servant complained vehemently, letting out the occational whine or groan as her uncle gave the sore muscles in her shoulders and arms a firm massage. "And I've still got to learn all about tournment etiquette by the morning," she exhaled heavily before uttering an incantation that summoned a book from the other end of the table – where it had been laying just out of her reach – and made it magically open up on the side the sorceress planned to read.

"Oh!" the old physician cried in surprise and slapped the back of his niece's head in admonition.

"What've I told you about using magic like this?" he scolded her loudly, exasperated at the girl's reckless ways – gambling with her life for a book that would only take her a few seconds more to get manually.

"If I could actually _feel_ my arms, I'd pick up the book myself," she whined pitifully, longing for some well-deserved rest, but knowing she still had far too many chores to complete before she could even _think_ about resting.

"Never mind your arms. What do I do if you get caught?" he asked, but it was more like a statement, letting his niece know how much he worried about her.

"What _would_ you do?" the dark-haired girl wondered curiously, looking up at the man, momentarily distracted from her own ailment.

"Well you just make sure it doesn't happen, for both our sakes," he nearly demanded, then went back to treating her shoulders with a rough massage.

"Ah!" she groaned painfully at the harsh treatment of her poor, mistreated shoulders. "I save Arthur from being killed and I end up as a servant. How is that fair?" she complained heatedly, aggravated at the unfair logic in all situations involving any royal person.

"I'm not sure fairness comes into it. You never know, it might be fun," Gaius suggested optimistically - a characteristic the cynical physician in all his years in the kingdom never had been known to possess.

"You think mucking out Arthur's horses is going to be fun?" she scoffed in disgust at the mere thought of working in the stables in their current condition. "You should hear my list of duties," she added with a groan at the reminder – she had actually tried not to think about it for a while, just to get a few moments peace of mind.

"We all have our duties. Even Arthur," he informed her, continuing his ministrations on her shoulders.

"It must be so tough for him with all the girls and the glory," the servant girl muttered bitterly.

"He is a future king. People expect so much of him. He's under a lot of pressure," the old man explained, feeling a little defensive of the little boy he had watched grow into a proud and strong man.

"That makes two of us," she gritted out between her clenched teeth ad the court physician stretched her arm backwards, putting more pressure on her sore joints.

* * *

Knowing little to none about armour, Merlin came to the conclusion that it would be best of she went down to Gwen's home to ask for assistance. Balancing all the pieces of the armour in her arms as she made her way through the streets of the lower town, she would be eternally grateful to all the people who had lent her a helping hand each time she dropped something – which was understandably quite often.

Gwen – being her normal, helpful self – was more than happy to help the clueless, new girl with anything she might need.

"So, you've got voiders on the arms," the maid explained, patting said item of the armour in emphasis, then stepping in front of the girl to do the same on the piece of iron covering the servant girl's chest. "The hauberk goes over your chest."

"The chest. The arms. The chest," the girl repeated to herself, touching the different pieces of armour and her brows furrowed lightly in consentration, struggling to memorize it all.

"I guess you know what to do with the helmet," the curly-haired maid inquired expectantly, handing over the Prince's helmet to his personal servant.

"Erm, yeah. Yeah, that was the only bit I'd figured out," the sorceress admitted with a small, almost embarrassed chuckle as she put on the last item of the armour – causing Gwen to giggle at her in amusement. "How come you're so much better at this than me?" she questioned in light confusion.

"I'm the blacksmith's daughter," the maid told her, making the other girl want to hit herself in the head for not thinking that far before talking – an act that of course, wouldn't be much of a punishment, as her head at the moment was very much protected against anything she might decide to attack it with. "I know pretty much everything there is to know about armour, which is actually kind of sad," she elaborated, her cheery mood fading rapidly with the increasing of depressive thoughts.

"No, it's brilliant!" the young servant exclaimed hastily, giving her a reassuring grin – which's effect was mostly destroyed by the helmet obscuring parts of it, but the blacksmith's daughter was thankful for the gesture anyway.

* * *

A while later the newly hired servant found herself helping the Prince to get properly dressed for a sword fight – though how 'properly' he would be dressed with her inexperience was questionable.

"You do know the tournament starts today?" Prince Arthur inquired his dark-haired servant, who was currently struggling to get the vambrace on his lower arm.

"Yes, Sire," she replied with a sigh and a hidden roll of her eyes at the impatient Prince's obvious irritation. "You nervous?" she asked conversely as she fixed the buckle on the gorget.

"I don't get nervous," he bit out harshly, he absolutely refused to show any sign of weakness, even if it was only in front og his own servant.

"Really? I thought everyone got nervous," the servant girl remarked with traces of confusion in her voice, oblivious to how she was grating on his nerves.

"Will you shut up!" he snapped, loosing his calm for a second.

Obeying the irate Prince's demand, she fetched his brilliantly red cape and tied it over his shoulders in complete silence, then grabbed his helmet and handed it over too.

"Great, yeah. I think you're all set," she said, standing back with her hands on her hips, letting her gaze sweep over her work proudly.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he forced past his clenched jaws, staring angrily at the perplexed girl, before reminding her. "My sword."

"Oh, yeah," she exclaimed, turning to get it, baffled by the fact it was _that_ – of all things – she managed to forget. "Yeah, sorry. Guess, uh, you'll be needing that," she tried to joke it off weakly as she granted him his sword, but he just grabbed it and marched off, without looking back. "That went well," she said to herself, taking comfort in the thought that it _could_ have gone so much worse.

* * *

Merlin peeked her dark-haired head around a corner on the sidelines as Prince Arthur and the other knights on the competition proudly strode into the arena to stand in front of the cheering people filling up the stands. King Uther strutted onto the tournament grounds, past the front line of knights, to stand before them and the rest of the people to give his opening speech.

"Knights of the realm, it's a great honour to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot," he announced grandiosely. "Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur," the King gestured towards his blonde son with a flourish of his hand, before continuing. "Only one can have the honour of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of 1,000 gold pieces," Uther revealed, and a brown box was opened, showing everyone its contents - which was indeed gold, and _lots_ of it. "It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward," he said gravely. "The tournament begins!" he announced to loud cheers and applause from the crowd.

Most of the knights left the arena to allow Prince Arthur and his first opponent space for the opening match of the tournament.

On his way to his seat in the stands, King Uther stopped by his son's side. "I trust you will make me proud," the King stated, slapping the blonde on the back, heightening the pressure on the Prince with his words.

A pair of guards took the cape's off of the Prince and the other knight, and they both put on their respective helmets, breathing deeply and mentally getting ready for the potentially deadly sword fight. The volume of the cheering from the specktators increased drastically with the first clang of iron against iron that rang through the air.

"Yeah! Come on!" Merlin yelled her encouragements, totally carried away as her master seemed to be the one in control of the fight.

The Prince of Camelot was indeed the one to leave the arena as the victor, to wild applause from the audience, as well as a triumphant shout of 'Yeah!' from his – at the moment – overly enthusiastic servant.

* * *

Afterwards, the young sorceress stood by the blonde Prince, watching other knights compete, including a knight called Valiant, who stood out amongst all the others.

"Knight Valiant looks pretty handy with a sword," she commented to Arthur as the topic of her comment exited the arena – but silently, so as not to overheard by anyone else.

"May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?" knight Valiant offered as he stopped near the Prince.

"Likewise," he replied galantly, ever the honourable knight.

"I hope to see you at the reception this evening," the other knight remarked smoothly, but with some trace of something the observant girl couldn't quite place, but knew she didn't like, before he left with his own servant at his heels.

"Creep," she spat with a shudder of disgust when Valiant was out of hearing range.

Prince Arthur snorted in amusement, eliciting a similar sound from his servant as well, brightening both of their moods considerably for a brief moment - before he chose to bring forth his inner prat once again. "Uh, for tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail."

* * *

That night Merlin retreated early to her bedchambers to take on her extensive list of chores to complete before the next morning. The dark-haired girl figured out pretty soon that there was no way she would be able to do it all without a little help from her unique talents.

When Gaius entered the room some time later, all of her chores was magically washing or polishing themselves, while the girl herself was laying comfortably on her back on the old bed, reading a huge book on tournament etiquette.

Noticing the door open, the sorceress let all the objects drop to spread across the already messy floor.

"Are you using magic again?" the old man accused sternly.

"No," she answered as an extremely fake innocent expression plastered itself over her whole face.

"What's all this, then?" her uncle inquired, curious about what excuse she could _possibly_ deliver in that situation, but only received an seemingly unknowing shrug in return from the girl on the bed. "I just came to tell you that supper's ready," he sighed in temporary defeat, then left to pour soup for the both of them.

* * *

**AN: There might be more mistakes in my writing than normal in this chapter, because I really don't have any more time to edit it. I have been traveling for almost two days straight now, and the night before that I was on a concert with Pearl Jam (it was unbelievably amazing!), and I have not had much sleep, and I have not had access to internet. My plane leaves in half an hour, and when I get where I am going, I probably won't have access to internet for a couple of weeks (unless I find someone I can go visit just to use their net, which I think would be a rude thing to do), but I WILL be writing at least, so I will have a new chapter ready for when I get home, I promise.**

**Anyway, please continue to leave me reviews, they do great things for my motivation and the joy of writing.  
**


	6. Valiant: The Mysterious Knight

Chapter Six – Valiant – The Mysterious Knight

Early in the morning, as the first rays of sunlight crawled over the lands of Camelot, Merlin once again found herself up and about way too early for her own preference, but it was Arthur's orders, and she could not so blatantly disobey the orders of the Prince.

She was in the gloomy armoury, mentally going through the list of everything she would need to dress the prince, to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything – she _really_ didn't want to face Arthur's wrath if she forgot something _again_ – when her ears picked up a hissing sound, coming from behind her. She quickly straightened up and spun around, her weary eyes scanning the room, intent on spotting the culprit.

"Hello? Is there someone there?" the dark-haired girl called, her voice echoing ever so slightly in the deathly silent armoury.

She walked in the general direction of where she thought the noise came from – walking as silent as possible on her tiptoes - ending up right in front of the creepy Knight Valiant's shield. The shield was adorned with three large, intensely green snakes.

The girl was startled and her breath caught in her throat when one of the painted snakes blinked one of its shiny eyes at her. The young sorceress crouched down in front of the strange shield, reaching out a hand to touch it – practically _burning_ with insatiable curiousity - but before her fingers could reach it, someone put the sharp end of a sword to her chest. Shocked, her gaze snapped to the wielder of the sword – it was none other than the owner of the very shield she had been inspecting – and she slowly got up to her feet.

"Can I help you with something, boy?" the knight leered at her, and if the situation hadn't been so uncomfortable, she would have rolled her eyes at yet another person mistaking her gender, but with the way he looked at her, she was glad he didn't know she was really female.

"Nope. I'm good. I, I was just..." she hesitated, frantically searching the area for an acceptable excuse for being there. "I was, erm, gathering my Master's armour," she finished, feeling suitably triumphant at her quick thinking.

"Then you'd best be on your way," the large man suggested darkly, keeping his eyes fixed in her the whole time, the underlying threat in his voice prominent.

"Right, yeah. No problem," she rambled, turning her back on knight Valiant to pick up the armour she was there for in the first place.

In her rush to get away and out of there as fast as possible, she stumbled over some scrap in the floor, knocking over at least three other shields resting against the wall, but was in too much of a hurry to bother to make time to put them up in their proper places again.

* * *

When Arthur entered his chambers, dressed in his gambeson, his armour was laid out on the table – blank polished, reflecting the few rays of sunlight streaming between the curtains perfectly.

"You did all this on your own?" he inquired, his disbelief ringing loud and clear.

"Yes, Sire," Merlin replied hastily, using every bit of her terrible lying skills in an attempt at sounding truthful – the truth would kill her, but being accused of getting help could either earn her a reprimand or a day in the stocks, depending on the Prince's mood.

"Now let's see if you can get me into it without _forgetting anything_," he said sternly, the warning in his voice was not to be taken lightly: no mistakes would be accepted that day.

Merlin turned her back on the blonde, trying not to let her embarrassment at the reminder of the last time show on her face as she picked up his hauberk and surcoat and started the process of dressing the royal knight. The servant proceeded with the gorget, mail coif, belt, sword belt, dagger and sword, before she handed him the helmet, and could finally step back to receive the verdict.

"That was much better," the armoured young man uttered, pleasantly surprised at the clumsy girl's improvement. "Not that it could have gotten any worse," he added, because, God forbid that he would actually pay his personal servant any kind of compliment.

"I'm a fast learner," she offered with a brief grin, discreetly crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping he wouldn't question her about when could have had time to learn _that_, since it was clear polishing all og his armour would have taken at least half the night.

"I hope, for your sake, that's true," he threatened, giving the dark-haired girl a stern look, but fortunately not catching on to the lack of logic in her words.

"Good luck," she called after him as he strode out of the chamber, his head raised high with pride.

* * *

Arthur marched proudly onto the arena, accompanied by the cheers and calls of good fortune from his admiring audience – everyone excited to watch their own prince defend his honour once again.

The Prince himself dutifully resumed his stance on the tournament grounds, his attention focused solely on the upcoming match – in doing everything in his power not to disappoint his father – only allowing a brief moment to acknowlegde the noisy crowd.

At the entrance of the tournament grounds, his young servant was eagerly watching, her whole face bright with excitement.

"Is it my imagination, or are you beginning to enjoy yourself?" Gaius inquired pointedly, joining his niece in watching the match.

"It..." she sighed heavily, but there was a small grin barely hidden in her fake dejected expression. "It isn't totally horrible all the time," the dark-haired girl admitted reluctantly before going back to consentrate on watching her Master fight his opponent. "Yes!" she cheered loudly, clapping enthusiastically as Prince Arthur got in a good hit.

Afterwards, when the Prince's immediate needs after the fight had been taken care of, Merlin stood by him to watch Knight Valiant fight his own match for the day.

His opponent was one of the knights of Camelot – a brave and loyal knight carrying the name Sir Ewan – but his bravery didn't seem to help him where he was laying motionlessly on the ground as the fight came to an end.

"I think he's badly hurt," Merlin commented to the Prince, voice laced with concern as opposed to the cheering of the crowd for the victory of Knight Valiant.

Apparantly she was not the only one worrying about the severity of the situation, seeing as Gaius entered the arena only moments later with his medical bag at the ready to take care of the fallen knight.

* * *

Later that night Merlin entered the physician's chambers, her arms laden with Prince Arthur's armour, to the sight of her uncle leaning over the still-unconcious Knight Ewan, fully consentrating on his examination of the patient.

"How is he?" the servant girl asked as she put down the armour on a nearby table.

"It's most odd," he replied, obviously puzzled by whatever he had found. "Look at this . See these two small wounds," he continued, pointing out the wounds on Sir Ewan's neck, and his niece stepped forth for a closer look. "Looks like a snake bite."

"How could he've been bitten by a snake?" she wondered aloud, thoroughly confused by the turn of events. "He was injured in the sword fight."

"But the symptoms are consistent with poisoning: slow pulse, fever, paralysis," the old physician informed, still quite baffled by the curious predicament.

"Can you heal him?" she questioned, both voice and facial expression full of hope.

"Well, if it _is_ a snake bite, I'll have to extract venom from the snake that bit him to make an antidote," the physician explained gravely with a hopeless shrug.

"What happens if he doesn't get the antidote?" the girl asked curiously, but showing her overwhelming need to help anyone in need.

"Then I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for him. He's going to die," he stated helplessly.

"He was fighting Knight Valiant," she mumbled to herself, pondering a thought that only just evaded her concious mind, but still wouldn't leave her alone.

"What's that?" her uncle inquired lightly.

"Nothing," Merlin replied hurriedly, then swiftly turned on her heels and exited the chambers without another word.

Gaius was too distracted working on his patient to put much effort into understanding what his niece was up to this time – he could only hope it was nothing foolish that would get her in trouble once again.

* * *

There was something alarming going on around there – Merlin didn't know what it could be, but she was pretty sure Knight Valiant was right in the middle of whatever it was. That was why she found herself sneaking along the dank corridors of the citadel, spying on said knight.

Carefully peeking her dark-haired head around the corner, she spied her target marching resolutely past her hiding place on his way back to his chambers. As the bulky knight disappeared from the girl's sight, she silently followed him – making sure not to bump into anything on her way.

The door to Valiant's quarters were not quite shut, leaving a thin slit allowing the spying girl a narrow view of the room inside.

She didn't really know what she expected to find during her investigation, but it was certainly not what she did find. The suspicious-looking knight pulled a white mouse out of a cage, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world for a knight to be doing.

"Dinner time," he announced to the empty room, navigating the poor creature in the direction of his shield by its long tail – which confused the peeping sorceress into thinking the man had to be quite mad. "Come on."

All of a sudden the three painted snakes on the man's shield came alive, shoving each other to get the mouse for themselves.

Too shocked to react in any way, Merlin froze to the spot, unable to think past the blatantly obvious proof that there was magic in the works. Finally getting back the ability to move, the dark-haired girl scurried away, none too careful about being silent anymore – something Knight Valiant would have been deaf not to notice, and of course had to follow.

* * *

Having finally managed to shake off her big, intimidating pursuer, Merlin barged into the physician's chambers, startling her old uncle from his work on the patient.

"I've just seen the snakes in Valiant's shield come alive," the girl announced loudly, out of breath after her highly unwanted session of exercise. "He's using magic."

"Are you sure?" Gaius asked, needing confirmation that he did indeed hear what he thought he'd heard.

"The snake ate a mouse - one swallow, straight down," she elaborated frantically, gesturing wildly with both hands. "Sir Ewan was fighting Valiant when he collapsed. It must've been one of the snakes from the shield," the young sorceress mused, trailing off to think of the implications of such a thing, before coming to a conclution, "I have to tell Arthur."

"Is there any chance you might be mistaken?" the old man wondered, halting his niece in her hasty - and most likely foolish – retreat back out the door.

"I know magic when I see it," the girl exclaimed, feeling slightly insulted.

"Perhaps, but have you any proof?" he continued insistently.

"Don't you believe me?" she asked uncertainly, but not wanting to show how his distrust hurt.

"I fear you'll land yourself in trouble. How will you explain why you were in Valiant's chambers?" the physician reasoned, allowing his voice to soften, hoping to dissolve the hurt he'd seen flicker in those clear, blue eyes.

"What does it matter? He's using magic to cheat in the tournament!" the upset, young sorceress cried in exasperation.

"But you can't go accusing a knight of using magic without proof," he told the girl sternly. "The King would never accept the word of a servant over the word of a knight,"

"What? So what I say counts for nothing?" Merlin exclaimed harshly, fighting to hold back the tears of anger and frustration that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"I'm afraid it counts for very little as far as the King is concerned," Gaius informed apologetically, wishing he had a better answer for her. "That's the way it is."

Angry and dejected at the unfairness of everything, Merlin left her uncle to go upstairs to fume in her bedchambers by herself.

* * *

**AN: I sincerely apologize for updating so late, please forgive me. I was hit by a severe case of writers block, and really had to force my øway through the chapter (it probably shows...). Added to that I've been searching for a job, and the rest of the time I've been laze... AND, my phone stopped working this summer (it's been barely half a year since I bought it!) :'( I had saved a lot of notes on it - notes concerning ideas to what should happen and how in this story, as well as other stories I had planned. And now it's all gone! :c Damn, unreliable technology... I need some cheering up! :'(**

**Anyway, enough with the negative emotions. Thank you, _Guest_, for reviewing! :D  
**

**Please people, continue to let me know what you think - reviews honestly have the power to make my day :)  
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